


Consideration 9

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: Consideration, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair deals with one more nasty wrinkle in his ongoing attempt to adapt to the new challenges of living with a post-traumatic brain disorder.<br/>This story is a sequel to Consideration 8.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consideration 9

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the mood for major h/c and mushy jumped right

## Consideration 9

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: Yeah, I know they're not mine, but try to stop me now. Ha! 

Warnings: Reading the first 8 parts to this would certainly help you understand what's going on, but it's not entirely necessary. Helps my ego to think you'd go to all that trouble though. This story takes place about a month after Blair has stopped any anti-convulsant medication for post traumatic seizure disorder. 

in. 

* * *

Jim Ellison stretched out beside the man he loved, luxuriating in the rush of Blair aromas and body heat. The alluring and spicy scents of their late night Italian meal mixed with the musk of spent sex drew him closer. He leaned over and licked the salty shoulder so near his mouth. Jarred by a sudden pain, he sat up. "Damn." 

Groaning, Blair rolled over. Reaching out, he brushed lightly against the muscled arm, his finger touches like fire. His voice still groggy, he croaked, "Jim?" 

"Blair, babe, you're too hot." 

"What?" Muttering, Blair squirmed away. "Yeah, well, thanks, Jim, but I'm tired, man. Go back to sleep." 

"Sorry, Chief. Didn't mean to wake you, but let me check you out here." Pushing back sweat-dampened curls, Jim palmed the forehead. "Damn." 

"Oh, man, my head hurts." Grumbling, Blair twisted and pulled up the sheets with a shiver. "Leave me alone, Jim. I'm not in the mood." 

"Listen, Blair, you're running at least 102 here. We need to call the doctor. Now." 

Blurry blue eyes opening, Blair turned back to stare up. "Man, no way." 

"What? Yes, way. Fever's are nothing to fuck with, Blair. You know what the doctor said about that. It was one of the top ten triggers." 

"You worry too much." Taking a deep breath, the younger man rubbed his forehead, scrunching up his cheeks at the pain of trying to sit up. 

"Whoa." He stopped moving, swallowing hard. 

"What?" Jim stroked Blair's dark curly hair and shifted beside him while still watching every move, checking out every beat and rhythm. All of Blair's vitals raced faster than normal. 

"Dizzy, that's all. My ears and throat hurt, too. Must be a cold or something." 

"You're not sneezing or coughing, Chief. We need to call the doctor. Please don't make me beg on this." 

Smiling weakly, as if half asleep, Blair walked his fingers across his lover's chest, lazily playing with the nipples, one and then the other. The hitching of Jim's breath pleased him no end. "You know I love it when you beg." 

"Chief, come on. Please." 

"Come on? Sure." A blazing tongue licked over the hardened nubs while Jim fell back against the headboard, his cock rising to the morning light. As an urgent hand reached down to wrap around him, he jerked back in a hurry. 

"Ow, Chief, stop. Sorry, but you're way too hot for that, babe." 

Despite the pounding headache, Blair laughed. "Been telling you that for ages." 

Pulling away, the young man frowned and squeezed his eyes shut. "Shit." 

"What?" 

"Hurts, man. Feels like my head's going to explode. This really sucks." 

"I know, Chief, but you haven't had a seizure in over a month. Sure don't want an over-heated brain to change that." 

Quietly, Blair confessed. "I'm down with that." Just as he started to swing his legs to the side of the bed, he added, "Oh, man." 

"What? You okay, Chief?" A worried hand supported his back, the wide palm pressing through the thin cotton of his gray tank top. 

"I've got that paper due for Dr. Deering today. I just needed to check through my notes again. Damn." 

"You can call and explain." 

"Jim, the guy's already given me more time than he's supposed to." The frustration in the voice twisted at the older man's gut. 

"Then he'll understand again. Listen, you need to get dressed, don't bother taking a shower. I'm calling the doctor at home." 

As Jim moved around him, Blair grabbed his hand. "Don't do that, man. It's not an emergency or anything. Let me take a shower and get dressed. I'll drink some tea, and then we'll call. I know I can get right in, being one of those frequent visitor types and all." 

"I'm either calling the doctor now, or we go to the emergency room. Your temperature's going up and so are your other vitals. I don't want to wait." 

Blair shook his head and wrapped a sheet up around him. "Damn sentinel senses. It's worse than living on public display sometimes. No fucking privacy at all." Already shivering, the irrational anger just added to his shakes. "God, I'm freezing." 

"It's the fever, Chief. Come on. Get dressed. I'll make the call." 

"I want a shower, Jim. I stink." 

"I love the way you smell, babe." 

"Then you must have a fever, too, man, because I am like way ripe." 

"No showering alone." 

Staring in disbelief at his partner, Blair moaned. "Man, don't you ever stop? This is so not the time to get romantic." 

"You could have a seizure in the shower, Chief." The older man wore his most serious worried Jim face. 

"Oh." Suddenly befuddled, Blair glanced around. "Where are my shoes?" 

"They're downstairs, by the sofa. You didn't need them last night, remember?" 

While Jim dialed, he wore a smile from the sweet memory of carrying a wild Blair up to their bed. Listening to the phone ring at the other end, he flashed on the image of his young lover's face flushed and sweaty, his dark blue eyes dilated to black. The kiss-swollen lips called his name over and over as they explored and suckled his neck. He raised a hand to fondly touch the slight bruise still there with its tiny persistent sting. 

Behind him, Blair stood at the first step, holding the rail. "Oh, shit." 

Jim turned in horror just in time to see Blair falter and fall forward. "Chief!" 

He couldn't move fast enough to stop the man he loved from tumbling and striking every step until he lay very still at the bottom. 

* * *

"Jim, I want you to settle down now before I call a doctor in here to sedate you, do you understand me?" Captain Simon Banks stood anxiously, hands on his hips, watching his best detective pace wildly back and forth in a closed off exam room. 

"I can't, Simon. This is my fault. I should've felt the heat sooner, gotten him here right away." 

"This is not your fault. Stop acting crazy, Jim." 

"Crazy is what I'll be if he doesn't make it, Simon." 

The captain stepped forward, trying to place an assuring hand on a his friend's shoulder only to have it shoved away. "Please, don't touch me. I can't stand it. Everything's spiking all at once, the smells, the sounds. Everything's too much." Jim grabbed his head and continued to circle the room, caged and frantic. 

Keeping his voice as even and as calm as he could, Simon spoke in a whisper. To sentinel ears it roared. "Jim, listen to me now. You need to stop this. Blair's going to be okay." 

"You don't know that. You just don't know that. My god, Simon. You didn't see him lying there, so still. I couldn't do anything. Nothing. I couldn't even hold him." The choked words crippled a captain's heart. 

"You called 911 and then called me. You did everything you could. He fell, but he's not dead and the doctors are doing all they can. Try not to lose it here, Jim. Blair needs you sane, not strapped down somewhere in a psych ward, which is exactly where they'll put you if you start another brawl like that scene in the hallway." 

Shaking his head, still holding it between his palms like a wounded animal, Jim hissed. "He wouldn't let me tell him about Blair. He wouldn't listen. Started this shit about getting out of the way. A stranger tells me I'm in the way. Jesus, Simon." 

"He was just doing his job, Jim. You know that. Settle down and try to get yourself under control." 

"I'm trying. It's just too damn hard. I can't do this alone. I can't lose him." 

"You haven't lost him. Now, please, do one of those exercises the Kid taught you. Breathe, talk to a cloud, or something. You're starting to scare me a here, Jim." 

"I'm sorry, Simon. You're right about going nuts. They won't let me see him. He's been in there three hours. I can't stand this. I have to do something." 

"Jim, what you can do is just calm down and be there when Blair wakes up. You keep acting like this and he's going to see it and then he's going to get really pissed off." 

For the first time in the conversation, Jim stood still and looked directly at his captain and friend. Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, he nodded. "You're right. Okay, I can do this. Hell, it's not like it's the first time, right? It's like this thing just never fucking ends." 

"Now, you're getting mad again. Let's try for medium ground." 

"Easy for you to say, sir. Somebody you love isn't lying in a hospital room with who knows what going on and nobody to tell you a fucking thing about it." 

"You're wrong there." 

"What?" 

Simon shook his head, but locked his eyes with his detective's. "You may not believe this, Jim, but I do understand. I love him, too, in my own way, as a friend and almost like a son. Over the last few years he's been a major influence to you, but you're so focused on your part of the world, you miss the big picture. Blair's important to a lot of people. By the same token, so are you." 

The anger slowly ebbing, Jim sagged down on a nearby stool, his balance rocky at best. "I know that, Simon. I appreciate it. You've been a good friend through all this, but it's just so hard. You know, I never thought I'd ever say this after all the things I've been through, Peru, my father and Bud, losing Danny and Jack, all of that was lousy. But this, man, this is something else altogether. This is the hardest thing I've ever been through and it's not over." 

"You're right, Jim, it's not over. Blair is going to be okay. You've just got to believe that." 

"I'm trying to, but faith is Blair's department." 

"Then you'd better start taking lessons from the boy. Keep beating yourself up about this and you don't do anybody any good." Pausing, he took a deep breath trying to calm his own frazzled nerves. "But, I think you know that, right?" 

"Yeah, I do." Raising his head, light blue eyes met with dark coals. "Blair's always been the strong one, Simon. I'm not ashamed to admit that." 

"Yeah, the Kid's tough all right. Surprised the shit out me, too. But you underestimate yourself in this thing." 

Before Jim had a chance to reply, an older doctor entered the room. "Feeling better, Detective?" He carried a chart and stood next to the gurney, watching warily as Jim decided to join him. 

"I'm fine. How's Blair? And where's Dr. Anderson?" 

"Dr. Anderson is on family leave and asked me take the case temporarily, but I have all the records. I'm Dr. Marshall. As for Mr. Sandburg, he's an extremely lucky young man." 

His voice raspy, Jim pushed out the dry words. "How lucky?" 

"No bones broken, only severe bruising all along the back and the right shoulder, but amazingly no concussion. Head and spinal injuries were my biggest concern, but he should recover. He does have a bad ear infection which is what's causing the fever. My big question is why did he fall? He's still foggy about the details and doesn't seem to know if he got dizzy or had a seizure." 

"And that's important?" 

"Certainly. If he had a seizure while taking his medication, I need to know. I mean, a fever could trigger a seizure, but I'd like to think that wouldn't happen with the correct dosage. We may need to make adjustments when he's over the infection. I'm going to order some more samples to check his blood levels to see what we need to do." 

Jim shifted uneasily before he spoke. "Blair's not taking his medication right now." 

Dr. Marshall frowned and nodded. "Dr. Anderson told me about his lack of compliance in the past because of all the side effects. I wondered about it. How long ago did he stop?" 

Guiltily, Jim refused to make eye contact. "About a month. He should have told the doctor, but I guess he forgot." 

"Detective Ellison, I'm not here to judge anyone or his decisions. I'm sure we both know your partner didn't forget. He did what a lot of new patients with brain injuries do, he denied the problem, hoping it would go away. I've been a neurologist for 20 years now, so you're not telling me anything new. The thing is, I do believe a patient has a right to choose his own medical care as long as he also knows all the possible consequences. Right now, my main concern is to get him through this infection and to make him as comfortable as I can. I know I said there were no bones broken, but he's going to hurt like a son of a bitch for awhile. As to the seizures and medication, well, we'll talk about all that later." 

"Thank you, doctor." Jim tried to keep breathing evenly while he struggled not to scream. "I need to see him." 

"I'm admitting him, so he should be in his room in a less than an hour. We'll see how he does on the antibiotics, plus, since there's no concussion, I've given him some Demerol. He needs to rest." 

"I just need to be with him." 

"I understand that. Based on that earlier display, I'm guessing that Mr. Sandburg is more than just your police partner. 

"Yes, he is." Contritely, Jim shrugged. "And I'm sorry about earlier. I was just worried." 

"I figured that out once I got my heart out of my throat. Anyway, now that you're calm, I'll send a nurse in when he's settled." 

"I appreciate it." 

As he left, Simon came to stand beside his friend. "See, I told you the Kid would be okay." 

Still anxious, Jim turned and growled. "I'll believe that when he's home again and safe. God, I hate these places." 

"Can't argue with you there." Slapping his friend on the back, he commanded. "Come on, Jim. Let's go get some coffee and call the station while we're just hanging around waiting." 

"Sure, I guess we could do that." 

"Just don't go attacking anymore doctors, okay?" 

Suddenly sheepish, Jim smiled just a little, "God, you're so damn demanding." 

"I'm a captain." 

"Oh, well that explains it then. You never lose control." 

"One of us has to be the grown up." 

"Lucky you." 

Walking down the corridor, Jim blocked out all the other sounds, listening, stretching and listening harder until he locked on. There it was, Blair's heart, strong and steady. God, he loved that sound. 

* * *

Holding Blair's hand in his, Jim lifted it once again to his lips, testing the thin skin with sentinel senses. The lower temperature pleased him and he kissed it again. 

"That feels nice, man." 

Sleepy, drug-happy eyes stared at him from the sweetest of faces. "Hey, babe. How you doing?" 

"You tell me. What's going on?" 

"You don't remember?" Jim watched the slight tensing of the forehead and the staring at the ceiling as his young guide tried to recall the accident. 

"Not all of it. My head hurt and I got dizzy." Still keeping his hand in Jim's, he shifted slightly, a groan for his troubles. "Oh, yeah, I fell down." 

"That you did." Tenderly, Jim stroked the top of the hand while he reached over and ran his fingers through Blair's messy curls. "Fell down every single one of the damn things." 

"Yeah? Ouch. Should've tried bouncing better. Doesn't hurt too bad though, I guess." 

"That's because you're drugged up, Chief. Demerol wears off, you're going to hurt like hell." 

"Good stuff Demerol." 

"I thought you were into natural cures?" Jim nibbled absently as his guide's fingers, sucking in the rich taste of Blair. 

"Tea's fine, but I'll save it for some time when I don't try to do a bad imitation of a slinky." 

A flinch came with the flash of seeing Blair's body rolling over itself down the steps. "God, Chief." 

"I'm sorry, man. Didn't mean to scare you like that." 

"Do you know what happened?" 

"Got dizzy, I guess." 

"No seizure?" Jim's question brought Blair's eyes to meet his. 

"No, I don't think so. I mean, when those happen, it feels different. I don't remember anything, but this time I remember the actual fall." 

"I told Dr. Marshall about the medication, Chief." 

Blair shifted carefully, rolling a little more towards Jim. "Who's Dr. Marshall?" 

"He's the guy I tried to kill in the waiting room. He's taking over for Dr. Anderson for awhile. Anyway, he knows you're not taking your pills now." 

Concern creased the young face. "You tried to kill him? Jimmm. I thought I taught you better. Let me guess, he wouldn't let you see me." 

"God, I'm sorry, Chief. I should've stopped this. It's my fault you're here and this guy I didn't even know, he just took over." 

Closing his eyes for a few moments, Blair finally reopened them and stared hard at his partner while he spoke, not harshly, but firmly. "I knew this was coming. This guilt thing has got to stop, Jim. It's not your fault I lost my balance, so just cut it out right now. Not another word about it being your fault or I'll have to get up and whip your sorry ass." 

"Promises, Chief." 

"Don't kid about this, Jim. I'm serious. I don't want you feeling guilty." 

"I'll try, but you know me." 

"Yeah, I do, man, and I love you, but you don't control everything that happens. Just accept that and get over it." 

"I'll try, babe. Honest." 

"You've got to, Jim. You scared me this time." 

"Scared you? Why?" 

"I'm not into pain, Jim. This hurt like a mother, you know. I couldn't really say much, but I could hear you. Jesus, you sounded out of it, worse than me even." 

Blair smiled sadly as he tightened his grip to squeeze Jim's hand. "At the loft, off and on, I could hear you crying, calling to me. Man, it broke my heart, babe, to hear you like that." 

A flush colored his skin, as Jim lowered his head. "I couldn't do anything, Chief. I was afraid to touch you. Then they had you on that back board, all strapped down, your head held like that. God, it was awful." 

"I know, baby, but I'm okay now. It's just I could hear you from the exam room. I couldn't call out, because nothing seemed to work and everybody was poking me with needles and cutting my clothes off. God, do you know how cold those damn rooms are, and the scan? I hate those. I was freezing. But the whole time, all I could think of was hearing you screaming and yelling at people to get out your way. Jesus, Jim you sounded crazy. Thank god for Simon." 

"I'm sorry I scared you, Chief. I just needed to see you." 

"Jim, look at me, man." Light blue eyes locked with gentle dark blue. "I don't want to think that if something happens to me, you'll lose it. I mean, I know it'd be tough, but you've got to try to hold it together. I swear to god, I'd come back to haunt you if you let yourself go nuts." 

"Haunt me?" 

"Yeah, you know, like in those awful movies where the people get killed but come back to mess with the people they love to make them get on with their lives." 

A rush of anger surged through his whole body. Jim jerked away and paced the room, rage charging his words. "Jesus, don't fucking joke like that. Why are you talking about dying? I can't believe this conversation. Damn it, Blair, you're not going to die on me. Do you understand that? That is not going to happen. Ever. I couldn't stand it." 

"Oh, man. Jim, settle down. I'm sorry. I was just joking. I...." 

"I know what you were trying to do and I'm not going to listen. We are not having this conversation." 

Sad eyes watched him and then closed as Blair twisted slightly to lie flat. "Jim, please, sit back down. I'm sorry, man." 

Still pouty, but the bulk of his hostility evaporated, Jim scooted closer in his chair. "Well, you should be." 

Tenderly, he stroked the thick hair on his partner's arm. He loved the feel of Blair's hair no matter where it grew. Each fuzzy wisp of it teased his finger tips as he concentrated in on single strands growing large in his vision. 

"Jim, listen, don't zone on me here." 

Tugging himself back, he changed his focus. One more time he reached through the rail, but this time he gently caressed his lover's whiskered cheek. "I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean to snap like that. It's just I can't even think about being without you, much less joke about it." 

Voice weak, Blair smiled. "I know, Jim. I understand. It's just I don't know what to do about you." 

"What's to do?" 

"Live forever I guess." 

"Damn well better." 

"And you'll do the same?" Cupping the back of the hand already at his face, Blair watched as Jim whispered back. 

"By your side always, Chief." 

Blair rubbed his cheek against Jim's hand and closed his eyes. "I'm tired, man." 

"Go to sleep, Blair. I love you. I'll be here when you wake up." 

"Love you, too, Jim." 

Standing, Jim leaned over slowly and kissed the purple bruise on the side of his lover's forehead. He desperately shooed away the awful nagging, the terrible screech of warning that Blair would never be safe. He refused to listen to that awful voice hammering and building a home for doubt and fear in his heart. 

Instead, he sat back down and counted his blessings. Bundled together in one body, Blair's body, an infinite number of joys lay in the bed beside him, guarded by sentinel oath. Resting his head on the rail, he closed his eyes and sampled the true gift of having the man he loved breathing and loving him unconditionally in return. 

Under control again, sane down to his socks, Jim took in a deep breath. "Stay with me, Chief. I need you." 

And in the jungle, the ancient animal spirit paced, fighting dread on the stone steps of the temple. A hoarse roar called out over the thunder of the rising storm, over the rush of windy branches beating down through the steamy heat. The chitter and buzz of insects carried the message, spread the word of disturbance. Unsettled, the panther stalked to the cliff edge, scratched the earth before stretching out to lie down to stare across the gaping space. The sentinel and guide would face the same vision soon enough, would find balance or not. Waiting and scratching whiskers, claw against tooth, the animal spirit focused and tore at the sacrificial flesh, the life's blood staining its fur. 

The End of Part 9 


End file.
